Shielding the Beast (discontinued)

Twelve | Forgiven

"Your fault. Your selfishness. Your secret."

"His pain, all your fault."

These words I cannot escape. Following me through darkened mazes of lethal red smoke, they are spoken by the ghost of a voice that floats through my ears, its only purpose for existence to torment me.

Explosions fill my ears, distant yet ringing against my sensitive hearing. Vibrations travel through the earth, running across the ground beneath my feet.

Screams rise up through sightless sky to join the chorus of serried bangs, bloodcurdling and shear— an audible manifestation of the red death sure to come.

A handful of heartbeats later and one scream raises above all others, distinguishing itself for only me to hear. Through the opaque air, it's as if the pain of the owner is duplicated, one copy dropping itself onto my shoulders for me to endure.

Before me a portion of the reddened fog clears, only to reveal a horror worse than imaginable.

A stone pillar stands amidst the plagued forest clearing, great in width and cracked with age. Two bronze chains exceed from the stone, braced into it like a torture device.

My eyes follow the chains, finding what's on their ends to make me sick.

Asher's wrists are locked in shackles, his arms pulled up by manacles holding all his weight, and his head hanging limp for his chin to touch his chest.

I can feel the hysteria building up inside, like a tropical storm taking place within my torso. But my body refuses to carry out my actions, leaving me helpless within my own being and denying me to even cry out to the sight of my Lifeblood in suffering.

My body continues on its own, as if I'm nothing but a simple spectator still viewing the world through my own eyes.

My feet don't bother to go to him, taking my yearning to do so as trivial. Words come from my lips, but the words are not mine and not of my intention.

"I can't tell you."

As soon as the sentence is spoken, a series of cuts and tears begin to carve themselves into Asher's flawless skin, like invisible knives drawing their edges into his flesh.

The ghostly voice returns, speaking out louder than my Lifeblood's crippling screams or the now not-so-distant explosions.

"His pain, all your fault." 

My muscles jerk me into consciousness, nearly spasming in holy terror of a fear so great. My eyes are wide and wild, pupils dilated so much that it feels as if the green of my irises could almost be hidden.

Sitting up, my legs form an arch, the sheets still covering them. Hair falls over my face, disheveled and frizzed from not having maintenance since being soaked in the creek days ago. My chest rises and falls in distress, the heart pounding within it rapidly.

"I'm sorry."

The sudden and unexpected words force me to jump, a slap to the face of my paranoia.

With immediate reaction my head snaps to the opposite side of the bed, following the sound of the irresistible voice that spoke.

Beside me Asher sits without solace, head hanging down and face repentant. His sweat-pant clad legs are crossed and his feet bare.